Running To Escape: A Sam & JR Zombie Thriller

by Schobernd, Robert

  As Sam pulled onto the highway, JR said, “I guess you’re stuck with me; I’ve nowhere else to go. Are you okay with that?”

  Sam turned to her and grinned. “Yeah, I’m okay with it. I’m getting use to having you around and like who you’re becoming.”

  They quickly backtracked to Minot and found a small diner in the main business district of the town of forty-eight thousand. Before leaving the truck, JR tried to tune the radio. All they heard was static. Earlier after he pumped fuel, Sam discovered the GPS was dead. He had no idea how long it had been out of service. His cellphone stopped working Tuesday. He took those as signs that most services he was used to would soon be only faded memories of the past. They took a road atlas and maps of the northern states with them to map a route to Idaho. “It’s seven thirty; the sign on the door shows the business closes at eight. A dozen people are sitting and finishing their dinners, so we might be in time to get served.”

  JR entered alone and asked if Smokey would be allowed inside; she promised he would stay near her and not cause any trouble. The owner frowned, then said, “Hell, why not. We might all be dead next week anyway. At this point I don’t know what matters and what doesn’t. But if it makes a mess, you clean it up. Agreed?” She stared critically at JR’s holstered handgun on her thigh but let it pass.

  JR grinned. “Definitely.” She waved for Sam and Smokey to enter. They took a table in the corner near the big plate glass window and ordered. The waitress walked toward the counter in the back as JR reached for Sam’s hand. “I haven’t properly thanked you for picking me up Saturday in Oklahoma. Thank you. Someone else who wouldn’t be as nice and kind as you could have stopped . . . any number of terrible things could have happened. I could be dead by now if it wasn’t for you.” She squeezed his hand, then paid attention to Smokey’s insistent nuzzling.

  While eating, they highlighted a route west on secondary highways. Idaho was a little more than seven hundred miles away. With steady driving, it would be another fifteen hours’ drive time.

  After dinner they parked in town at a shuttered gas station for the night. They were at the end of the block where a streetlight at the far corner cast a feeble, yellow glow toward them. Sam again slept in the truck cab. JR and Smokey took the camper.

  As he squirmed in the seat and mentally relaxed, he thought to JRs statement in the restaurant. He, too, was glad she was with him. She was a good person and he liked her; in fact, he was learning to like her a lot. She was good company and was adjusting to their changing environment as fast and as well as could be expected. But it was painful for her. The episode with Breyna and then having to defend themselves against rogue humans had been high hurdles for her to overcome, but she did it. He was proud of her. A feeling was growing that they wouldn’t be parting soon. There’d be a place for her as long as she wanted to stay with him.

  For more than six months, he had followed the zombie apocalypse as it developed. It was six months for him to mentally adjust and prepare for the horrors survival would require him to deal with. Websites in Europe broadcasted the full range of zombie and human behaviors he would need to be ready to handle. What they didn’t explain with great depth and clarity, he reasoned for himself. In that respect he was spared the sudden impact of acts that months before would have seemed unthinkable. But even with that mental preconditioning, his violent responses were affecting him to depths he hadn’t anticipated.

  Slowly his thought trailed off until he slept soundly.

  During the night, Sam awoke to the sharp cracks of multiple gunshots close by. Sitting upright, he looked all around the area in front of and to both sides of the truck. He saw movement in the driver’s side mirror. Carefully, he exited the cab on the driver's side and looked past the trailer. Three men ran toward a green pickup several hundred feet away. One limped and was helped by the other two. Smokey chased them nipping at their legs. JR called him back repeatedly, but he ignored her in the excitement of the chase. Sam met J.R. behind the trailer where she stood with her Glock in her hand. The trailer’s drive-up gate lay on the concrete and the Yamaha dirt bike lay on its side ten feet away. "Oh, Sam. Thank God. More shit to deal with. . . . Smokey growled and woke me. They were stealing from us, so I shot twice in the air to warn them off. But one of them pointed at me. In the dim light I thought he might have a gun, so I shot at his legs." They were each silent as the thieves sped away with the engine racing and tires squalling. They turned to the open trailer. With flashlights, they inspected the trailer and reloaded the Yamaha. The padlock with a cut shackle laid where it was dropped. A bolt cutter was nearby; Sam tossed it in the trailer. Nothing else appeared to be damaged or missing.

  Sam said, "Dammit! Criminals have become a daily occurrence. There’s trouble every time we turn around. I guess we need to drive at night and sleep during the day where people are around. Let's take off before the cops show up to check what we're doing. Someone might have heard the shots and called it in. And the guy you wounded will surely go to a hospital and file a report blaming you for shooting him for no reason. I’ll grab another padlock from my stash, then we’ll leave and drive all night." As an afterthought he added, "Do you think you can sleep in the camper while I drive, or do you want to sit up front?"

  J.R. was squatted to rub Smokey's head and neck. "Up front. That thing would rock too much. In fact, it’s two am, so I slept soundly for almost five hours. I feel well rested, so if you're okay with it, I'll drive four hours, then you can take over again. At the first chance tomorrow, I’ll feed Smokey a half pound of raw hamburger as a reward for his ferocious attack."

  Sam started for the passenger's door when J.R. said, "We haven't had a shower or changed clothes since we left Oklahoma four days ago. At daybreak let's rent a motel room and clean up." She snickered, "I'm sure I smell as bad as you do, and you're getting rank."

  Sam grinned, made as if to sniff his armpit, and made a face. "Whoa, good idea." They laughed as JR shook her head and grinned at his silly sense of humor.

  With the center console raised, Smokey slept between JR and Sam with his head resting on JR’s thigh. Willy Nelson sang ‘Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” from the album Red Headed Stranger. The music was turned low, and in half an hour Sam was sleeping soundly with his head resting against the glass.

  JR was surprised by how quickly she was becoming attached to Sam. She had never relied on any man except her dad. Jacob Johns worked as a machinist since graduating high school, provided a good living for his family, and was a great, interactive father.

  She felt Sam had that same potential; plus, he was sexy and handsome. Tall and stocky but certainly not pudgy. When his shirt was off, his muscular body shone with sweat in the afternoon heat. She smiled. She liked what she’d seen. Liked it a lot.

  They’d been through tough times together in the short span of four days. She was sure he liked her; she’d caught him stealing glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Had he seen her glancing at him surreptitiously? She hoped so. He seemed sort of shy and might need to be encouraged. But she’d hold back and see what developed in the weeks ahead.

  Chapter III

  Running to Hide

  At Williston, North Dakota, JR pulled into the parking lot of Carrol's Motel. Sam woke as the truck lurched across the rain gutter before it stopped, then the engine shut off. She stretched and said, "We're about ten miles from Montana. We passed several major chain motels on the way. As small as this place is, it might still take paper money and the sign say’s it has vacancies indicating they’re open. If you'll go across the street to the Williston Diner and buy our breakfasts, I'll take the bathroom first."

  "This place looks okay, but next time go for the high dollar places. I still have a wad of money, and if I'm right, it's going to be useless very soon. People will surely realize the dollar has no value because there's no longer a Federal government in control to back it up."

  JR. replied indignantly, "The two big chains we passed didn’t app
ear to be open. Their head office management probably shut the entire chain down because they knew currency and credit cards were worthless. They have scads of accountants who do nothing but sit and worry about such things.”

  He slapped his face in feigned remorse, then smiled. “Good thinking. I like that.”

  Sam strode to the office. JR stood waiting by the truck with clean clothes and her toiletry bag until he returned and opened the door to room 9. Smokey beat her inside. The room was medium size with two standard beds, a desk, chest of drawers, a dresser, two chairs at a small table, a microwave, and a small refrigerator. The walls were papered in pleasant tan and green tones with the end wall painted medium green. JR was satisfied with her choice after seeing the bathroom was clean and well appointed.

  She went straight to the bathroom, pushed Smokey out, and closed the door.

  He yelled, "Before I go, I'll try the TV and see if there's any news about conditions across the country." He flipped through all the channels and found nothing but snow and static. He left Smokey inside as he closed the door. Before crossing the street, he searched behind the truck seat and found his laptop computer.

  At the diner, seven other customers sat at tables and two men were on stools at the counter. He ordered two large three meat breakfast specials, milk, orange juice, and two large coffees to go. Then he ordered ham and scrambled eggs for Smokey. While taking his order, the owner looked at the laptop in his hand and shook her head. "The internet went down early yesterday and hasn't come back since then. When my son got up an hour ago, he came here for breakfast and said it's still down at home; TV’s out too."

  "I checked in at the motel across the street this morning. Their TVs are down too."

  A man wearing Carhart’s sat at the counter; he looked up and spoke, “Seems the whole damn world has shut down. You’d think the government would have this under control by now. What the hell are they doing, just spinning their wheels?”

  The waitress nodded and frowned. "Yeah. Don't know what's going on, but I don't like it. Seems like a bad omen when everything we communicate with stops working. The phones don’t work either. Not even the cellphones. It's all because of those damn zombies. But we're stuck here. My family doesn't have anywhere to go or the money to walk away. I guess we’ll ride it out and hope for the best."

  The man at the counter said, “Me too. Ain’t got nowhere to go or the money to get there. Guess I’ll just wait for the zombies to get here and blow their brains out one at a time. At least I got plenty of ammo and a freezer full of food.”

  Sam decided to not add to their fear by telling them about the zombie attacks he and J.R. encountered, or that the Canadian border was closed because of the undead invasion. The freezer full of food would begin to thaw and rot when the power went off, which was imminent. From the woman’s words it sounded as if her family had no options and would likely become zombies in the coming weeks. Another man seated next to him frowned and nodded to everything that was said. Several others at the tables shrugged and went back to talking among themselves.

  As he silently waited, he thought of all the people he’d known in Oklahoma and those he’d met in the past five days; how many of them would survive the zombie apocalypse surrounding them? And what of Charlie and Ilene? He suspected they were likely dead or zombies. And what of Ari. She was in New York near the east coast. It was one of the major areas where the invasion started. Even though their parting had been bitter, he wished her well and hoped she would survive. After paying and leaving a generous tip, he said, “Good luck and take care.”

  Back at the motel, he discovered his room key was missing. Then he remembered laying it on a table when he checked the TV. He hammered on the door several times, heard Smokey bark, then waited in front of the peep hole. J.R. cracked the door open with the security chain engaged. The door closed, the chain slid, and the door reopened. J.R. stood in her panties and bra with a towel in one hand and a Glock in the other.

  "Am I allowed to say you've got a great body?"

  She raised the handgun to point beside him with her index finger beside the frame. "You can look but don't touch."

  He smirked. "Like I told you before, I won't make a move on you until you beg me to." He grinned and she made a disparaging kiss my ass face. Then as she turned and strutted away, she smiled and gloated.

  They ate before he showered and shaved.

  Thirty-five minutes later, he walked into the bedroom in clean briefs. The hot shower felt so good he’d stood under the water much longer than usual.

  She was asleep in one of the full-sized beds with Smokey lying beside her, so he crawled under the covers in the other bed.

  When J.R. woke six hours later, Sam sat fully dressed watching her. He turned away when she threw off the covers and sauntered to the bathroom while inviting him to ogle. Smokey again tried to squirm through the doorway but was rudely ejected. Sam was still impressed by what he'd glimpsed earlier. She was hot. Damned hot. He grinned; first time he ever wanted to kiss and fondle a football player. While she dressed, he stood outside while Smokey cocked his leg and sprinkled the neglected planting area. A maid was in the room next to theirs, and her stainless steel cart sat beside the doorway.

  In twenty minutes, they crossed borders into Montana. At Route 13, they turned south and crossed the Missouri River. Sam remarked, “The Big Muddy is clear and narrow near its northern origin. I saw it once near St. Louis and saw how it got the title Big Muddy. I sure wouldn’t eat fish caught in that murky filth.”

  Sam thought of how life might play out after the zombie onslaught eased a bit. If JR stuck around and they continued to grow on each other, the two of them could become a couple. A couple to be reckoned with. She was feisty and a bit rebellious, but he liked her attitude overall. The thought of having a wimpy, whiney woman didn’t appeal to him in the least; she certainly wasn’t that. In the dangerous life he saw ahead, a tough woman who could adapt to the new daily rigors of existence would be a huge asset. Anyone less would be a constant worry; they would be more like a feeble dependent than a capable mate sharing the hard work and responsibilities ahead. They would each need a capable person watching their back, and he had learned either could fulfill that support role.

  Sam’s musings were interrupted by JR, “My two older sisters were enrolled at Louisiana State University. Both were highly intelligent. Much more so than me. Crystal was twenty-four. She had a nursing degree and was finishing advanced studies to be a Nurse Practitioner. She would have been like a junior doctor and earned almost as much as a doctor. Mavis was twenty-two and studied Internet Technology Security. She planned to enroll in an advanced degree course and hoped to work for the FBI or the CIA. She was extremely focused and driven as to her future goals. My youngest sister Carol was a junior in high school. She was a brain too. Wanted to be a mechanical engineer; she talked a lot about becoming an architectural design engineer. I was the dummy in the family. Just wanted to be a tomboy, drink a little beer, play football, dance, and have fun. It’s ironic that I’m still alive and they’re all dead. At least I assume that, since I couldn’t contact the older two. So where do I go from here? What’s my future going to be? That unknown scares the hell out of me.”

  Sam was pensive and thought at length before he spoke. “The way this thing is turning out, my Business Admin and Management degree would have been useless. In weeks there will be no worthwhile businesses to manage. The same for your brainy sisters. With my dad gone a lot, I learned to be independent and self-sufficient around the house. I made decisions most people my age weren’t expected or allowed to make. Those are the skills that are important now and will be used daily if we survive. The same goes for you. Most girls your age are wimpy, act brainless, and are highly dependent. You have skills and mindsets that are unusual for a girl, but they’re worth more in this new world than high dollar degrees in careers that don’t even exist from here on. Your sister who studied medicine was the only one who had knowledge that would
be applicable now. Very soon we’ll be back to the ways of the homesteaders who came west in wagon trains. It’s going to be a hard and dangerous life but simple and rewarding.

  “I read somewhere online recently there were likely about one million law enforcement personnel of all branches total in the US. Add in the military stationed here and reserve personnel and I bet it's still under three million people. Pit them against about three hundred twenty million civilians being turned into zombies daily and I don't believe they have a chance in hell of winning. They were unprepared and too far behind the zombie influx from the beginning."

  JR. was solemn. "I pray you're wrong or our future looks very bleak."

  “Or if we get far enough out of sight, we might struggle through it. I think that’s our best shot at surviving. And no one knows the future of the zombies either. Will they roam the world in huge numbers preying on humans forever until we’re wiped out, or will they someday just start to disappear? We’ll have to wait and see what happens and adjust our lives to that.”

  JR nodded with a dismal expression as she scratched Smokey behind his ears.

  Sam drove a total of four hours before stopping for fuel at Sand Spring, Montana. The pumps stood outside the general store attached to the Post Office. The owner said he’d checked the fuel tanks for water that morning, and the diesel tank was about forty percent full. No fresh produce or meat was available and very little other food items were on the shelves. They gathered much of what was left. The prices were reasonable; the geriatric wasn’t gouging anyone to take advantage of the crisis, unlike many others.